


In the Dark Corners

by Krisser__kris



Category: Highlander: The Series
Genre: First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-02-20
Updated: 2003-02-20
Packaged: 2017-12-05 17:08:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/725754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krisser__kris/pseuds/Krisser__kris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Methos has to reexamine how he's viewed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Dark Corners

** In The Dark Corners **

**by Krisser**

 

Methos picked up the plain manila envelope as he unlocked the door. He kicked it closed as he tore open his mail. A single sheet of paper and a cassette.

No signature, no scent and he bet no fingerprints. It read:

_I should kill you for this, but maybe you can make it better. I’ll know what to do next time I see you._

It was typed and hand delivered.

Methos pulled out a cassette player and popped the tape in. It held a conversation between Joe and Duncan.

 

_“No, you’re wrong, Joe. Methos does love me. It’s just not the same way I love him.”_

_“I’ve never seen you this way or read about it in your chronicles.”_

_“The Watchers can’t know everything.”_

_“They sure missed this.” Joe’s voice paused, “How much?”_

_“He’s as much a part of me as breathing. As much as our quickenings mixed, so did our souls.”_

_A loud sigh, then, “He won’t stick around.”_

_“I know.” His acquiescence to the inevitable clearly in voice. “But, Joe, it doesn’t matter. I’ll take whatever little bit I can get. I don’t deserve more. I didn’t trust when I should of, didn’t back him when I could of. The fact that I get some love will keep me going.”_

_“So what do you do?”_

_“Just go on. Hope that he’ll come back. Keep beer on hand.”_

_“Ya know, if he does come back. It could mean more,” Joe’s voice had a reassuring tone._

_“I’m flawed in the wrong way. Someone as complex and interesting as Methos will grow bored of me in a short while. No, Joe, don’t look like that. I accept it, so can you.”_

_There was a shuffle of feet sounds, then Duncan’s voice sounded further away._

_“There’s a lot of lust and some love. And Joe, it’s enough. Out, you worry-wart.”_

Joe’s chuckle was easily heard.

It felt like there was a squeeze on his heart. Methos wasn’t sure how to react to the words he heard on the tape. He was angry that Mac could underrate himself that way. He was angry that he could doubt him.

He pulled the tape from the cassette and burned it.

Damn.

How could the Highlander be so sensitive to his moods? He had been thinking of a sabbatical but just for a short time. He needed a break, to step back, MacLeod had become too important.

He knew it was dangerous to allow another so close that the thought of being apart left a gaping hole within oneself.

Yes, he was infatuated with the Highland child. How could he not be? The man had a passion for living that was addictive and Methos had become addicted. That alone frightened him to the core.

An immortal that wished to live did not become codependent with another of his kind. And one such as Duncan? That was just asking for trouble. So, instead of staying away, why did he find himself returning time and time again? 

He needed to be within the Highlander’s sphere. Hell, he wanted to be.

After Bordeaux, Methos believed that he would no longer be welcome, but found himself compelled to seek rejection by showing up at the barge. Much to his surprise, MacLeod had opened his home to him, again.

Instead of talking, Duncan had made dinner and Methos had eaten it. It was when they were cleaning up that Duncan’s eyes had caught him and begged for something unknown. Methos had embraced the Highlander, not knowing what else to do; fulfilling an internal need of his own.

Duncan had held on like he was a lifeline and Methos had returned the embrace. The intensity of their need had transmitted itself to both and they had drawn apart. Duncan had seemed dazed and had slowly leaned in for more. 

It was as the Highlander’s lips touched his that the older immortal knew he was lost. He had returned the kiss measure for measure. An hour later, all he could remember was being well sated and wrapped within Duncan’s arms.

So, as lovers they had no problems. They were equal partners. Their passion grew rather than diminish and the waning of that passion looked to be so far in the future as to never happen.

Duncan used words, but Methos couldn’t let himself believe in them. Duncan MacLeod never stayed with an infatuation very long. The ancient immortal was afraid that he would be damaged and withheld all the words that would give Duncan more power over him.

When he found himself wanting to stay and say the words, the cautious immortal knew it was time to run until it passed. Then he would return, he always did.

But now, before he could depart he had received the audio tape.

\-----

They sparred longer than usual. Duncan was delighted that Methos was so aggressive. It was a rare occurrence so Mac pushed on despite his fatigued limbs. He lost all advantage when a single drop of perspiration beguiled him. Duncan wanted to kiss where the drop touched and he lost his focus.

The ancient immortal took immediate advantage and disarmed the distracted Scot. He stopped his sword inches from the Highlander’s neck.

Duncan bowed his head in defeat.

“You need practice, Highlander.”

“I thought that’s what we were doing,” Duncan answered with a smile.

A rude sound was all he heard in reply.

As his thoughts still dwelled on the droplet’s path, Duncan only waited as long as it took the elevator to ascend and Methos to pass the bed on the way to the shower.

He never made it. Duncan pounced; his momentum flung both the men horizontal onto the bed.

Duncan’s lips immediately sought out the path the perspiration drop had taken. From the temple, along the chin and down the neck, Mac’s tongue traced it all. The salty flavor, along with Methos’ own taste, had Duncan at full arousal.

Mac’s tongue made it down to the Methos’ sensitive nipples before his mouth missed the taste of the neck. He moved up to reach it, sliding across the sweat-slicked body beneath him and felt the equally hard arousal of his partner. He ground his own erection into Methos and reveled in the deep-throated groan that filled his ears.

The older immortal flipped the Highlander, changing their positions. He took control of Duncan’s body with a single lick at the hot spot under the chin. Knowledgeable hands moved across the muscled chest, lightly grazing the nipples as they passed.

Mac moaned and opened his legs for Methos to fit between. He loved giving himself over to his lover.

The ancient devoured the Highlander’s mouth. He didn’t stop there, the neck, chest and cock were claimed. He brought Duncan to the edge and left him there. As his mouth teased the weeping cock his fingers worked gently to ready Mac. He slicked himself and entered Duncan in a single stroke. Methos never paused, his teasing continued. He brought the Highlander to the edge again and again.

Duncan wanted Methos to let go. He arched up forcibly, wanting his partner to lose his iron control, but the barricade around that control couldn’t be broken and Duncan begged for his release instead.

The old immortal recognized that his lover was at his breaking point and thrust hard and fast within him. He pushed Duncan over the edge just when he wanted him to and only then allowed his own release. Duncan’s name a whisper on his lips.

Mac turned and spooned up against Methos, arms and legs trapping him. He held him close as sleep overtook him.

Methos lay still within the Highlander’s embrace, mad at the Highlander, mad at himself. He knew that the Highlander had felt his holding back and knew he had let him without a word about it. There was a time when the Scot would have forced the control issue.

Lately, MacLeod gave in all the time. Methos remembered the tape and rolled out of bed in irritation and headed for the bathroom.

Mac feigned sleep as the older immortal closed the bathroom door. He rolled onto his back with foreboding. He knew that Methos would leave soon. In the few seconds left to him, Mac decided that he wouldn’t use the truth as emotional blackmail. Instead, he would just let him go with the knowledge that he was loved and that he would wait.

He changed the sheet as he waited his turn in the bathroom.

Methos’ mood was no better after a shower and shave. He dressed in silence as he felt the Highlander’s eyes watching him.

In a subdued voice, Duncan shared, “I love you.”

“Yes, yes, you say it all the time.” The ancient immortal waved the words away.

Stung, hurt, Mac replied, “But it doesn’t make it any less true! I won’t say it aloud if that’s what you prefer.” Duncan knew that a little piece of himself died with that restriction. He also knew that if with that concession it would make it easier for Methos then it was worth it.

The magnanimous gesture only irritated the older immortal more. “Why are you doing this? Changing yourself, hiding yourself away. You didn’t use to.”

Duncan turned his eyes to his love, they hid nothing. “You leave. So, what I was, was not enough. I tried to impose less, offer more, yet you leave again.” Duncan’s shoulders slumped downward, “I judged where I had no business, I cannot atone and must live with the repercussions of my actions.”

Puzzlement replaced irritation, “What repercussions?”

“That you will come and go, never commit to me.” Duncan looked away, not wanting to see that truth in Methos’ eyes.

Backed into a corner, Methos fought back, “I ‘m supposed to believe that this isn’t transitory? That you are really here for the long haul? You don’t even know what long is.” Methos shook his head and looked away.

“I know my heart. I know the cold empty spot deep inside that I’ve carried with me for over four hundred years. A place that I’d come to believe would remain so until a fateful day in Paris. An accidental meeting that changed my life. 

That dark corner began to fill and I didn’t even know why until the day it froze again. And because of my own arrogant self-righteousness I drove away my only light.” Duncan moved to look out into the night, the darkness a welcome to his bruised spirit.

“The change that is yet to come, I can’t imagine all that will be, but what I do know with absolute certainty is that I can’t imagine any of it without you at my side.” The Highlander turned to face his beloved, an openness on his face never before reveled completely. “I will accept whatever you give me. I will stay at your side as long as you allow. When you leave, I will wait and welcome you back if you should return.” 

Methos stared at his Highland warrior. The man, a regal beauty in his own right, had a spirit that was unlike any other that had been chronicled by the watchers. And now, this man was giving everything he was to an ancient has-been with a darker past. 

The truth of the ages was finally his; not from a locked memory, not from his vast experience. No, it was located in the doe eyes of a Scottish Highlander. His Highlander; the man that had come to love him without reservation and without condition.

The man before him was anything but transitory.

Methos had to face that that Duncan was completely committed to the two of them and he had to decide whether to trust his heart this time.

The time to trust his heart had seemed to be a long time in coming, but now that it was here, he was going with it and wasn’t letting go. He had no plans to, ever.

The oldest man looked into the Scot’s eyes and held them, “I love you more than I’ve ever loved, but that doesn’t make it easy. It’s hard to give my trust like that, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t loved you.”

Perplexed at Methos’ last words, “Methos, I never said that I thought you didn’t love me.”

“You think that I don’t love the way you do. You think I will leave without a word.” It still hurt that Duncan thought that despite its truth. The pain that he knew it caused Duncan hurt worse.

Mac looked down at his shoes, “No couple loves the same. I’m not asking you to love me back the same.”

Angry, Methos demanded, “Why not? Because I was Death and I couldn’t know how to?”

“No. Because you could never spend eternity with another immortal. You said so yourself.” Duncan repeated the Old Man’s words, words he couldn’t forget.

Exasperated, “I said that when I had no hope of being with you.”

Hope birthed in MacLeod’s eyes and Methos hated that it was there for the first time.

“I am as committed to us as you are,” truth rang in every syllable of the older immortal’s words.

Duncan gasped, “Methos?” 

“And, darn it, Mac, don’t you ever sell yourself short again. Your only flaw is loving me.” Methos crossed the room to stand in front of his Highlander.

“It’s no flaw, it’s a blessing.”

The love shinning out of the brown eyes filled the ancient immortal, surrounded him. He used Duncan’s own words, “You are as much a part of me as breathing.”

Duncan’s fear melted away. He cupped his mate’s face and kissed him. Every nuance of his love conveyed with his lips and tongue.

This time, Methos held nothing back, meeting, matching and giving more than ever before. Hands explored as if it were the first time. Clothes were lost and skin touched skin. Their bodies reacted as though they hadn’t made love an hour ago.

Methos spread his legs and Duncan fell between them, Methos’ need clear in his eyes. Duncan leaned over, grabbed the lube and slicked himself. Still moist, Duncan entered Methos in one thrust. Methos arched and cried out Duncan’s name.

The Highlander thrust and the ancient immortal arched up to meet him. Each thrust was met with equal force. Methos held nothing back, giving Mac everything. That knowledge pushed Duncan to the edge. He grabbed Methos’ cock and matched rhythms. Both lost themselves in the sensations and let go; the other’s name on their lips.

Duncan collapsed to the side and Methos gathered him close. 

At their peak, Methos was sure that he felt Mac’s quickening wrap around him. “Duncan…”

“So you felt it, too?” Mac answered the unasked question.

“Yes, our quickenings mixed.” Methos smiled, his heart in his eyes.

“As did our souls,” Duncan whispered.

After a kiss to Duncan’s forehead, “Yes, My Highlander, as did our souls.”

\--------

Joe picked up the phone on the third ring. “Dawson.”

“So, Joe, how’s things on the watcher front?”

“Hello, Amanda.” The Watcher identified the animated voice. “Mostly complicated,” Joe replied in answer to her question.

“What’s new with Duncan?”

Joe smiled, “He and Adam are planning their honeymoon.” Joe wrenched the phone away from his ear at the loud squeal that emanated from the receiver.

“When’s the wedding?” the vixen demanded.

“Week from Saturday. Duncan will probably be calling you later today to invite you.” Joe smiled in self-satisfaction. He loved getting the drop on the wily immortal

“Thanks, Joe. See you next week.” Amanda smiled as she closed her phone. It pleased her that she wouldn’t have to kill Methos after all.

fini


End file.
